Two Poems By Carol Hamilton

A Kyrielle for the Nursery

So tender your smooth flesh at the first 
When love jumps to provide for each thirst,
But soon the world says, "Cry on," instead.
"Scar tissue makes us human," he said. 
  
Self-pity becomes habit with ease,
And scapegoating's a useful disease.
Others live with wounds unmerited.
"Scar tissue makes us human," he said.
  
"Why me?" are not words used by wise ones,
Who find ways to praise all that comes.
They know how blows fall on each head.
"Scar tissue makes us human," he said.  

A Day Comes to Shed the Old Skin
  
Even the sun fades and goes,
   Touches trees and lakes aslant,
While I sort and finally dispose
  
But keep treasures I hope they'll grant
   A glance, a notice of a long-past prize
That I have saved and saved. But they shan't.
  
For life early is a race to rise,
   To accomplish as quick as the dash
Of waterfall, collect wins to set aside
  
In hope the next generation does not trash
   The letters, the accolades we cherish.
But the future is swift burn after the slash.
  
The only treasure we can safely wish
To hold the meanings we once gave
Our triumphs, our prizes is our own relish.
Even sun sinks into an evening grave. 

Carol Hamilton has recent publications North Dakota Review, Louisiana Literature, Hawaii Pacific Review, Southwest American Literature, Valparaiso Poetry Review, San Pedro River Review, Dryland, Bookends Revuew, Willow Review, Tiny Spoon, Gyroscope Review, Willow Review, Tipton Poetry Review, Poem, Brushfire, Sin Fronteras/Writers Without Borders, Psaltry and Lyre, Ceseara, Broad River Review, Burningwood Literary Review, Abbey, miller’s pond of poetry, Main Street Rag, Angel City Review, Hole in the Head Review and others. She is a former Poet Laureate of Oklahoma and has published 17 books: children’s novels, legends and poetry.